


Tiny Tin Can

by orphan_account



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: A ridiculous amount of italics, Daddy Danse, Established Relationship, F/M, Going to be multi-chapter, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unreliable Narrator, everyone has a lot of feelings, lots of internal dialogue, meant to be read on mobile
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse gets the F!SS pregnant and basically the Commonewealth just can not handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Of course this would happen. Of fucking _course_ this would happen. Victoria was pushed up into the corner of the bathroom, legs pulling tight to her chest, her head resting on top of her knees as she rubbed small circles into her temples. Her traitorous stomach rumbled again, and Victoria barely had enough time to throw herself back towards the (surprisingly) working toilet before she emptied the contents of her stomach. _Again_.

God, her morning wasn't supposed to go this way. There was nothing particularly relaxing about near dry retching into a century old toilet with her hair falling around her cheeks and her knees going numb on cement tiles.

There was a single and very brief horrifying moment where she wondered if everyone in Sanctuary could hear her. Repairs were underway, sure, and yeah, everyone was all gung-ho about fixing the roofs and if she was being completely honest there was an abundance of plaster _everywhere_ , but the houses weren't exactly built for privacy as much as they were built to keep people out of the rain. The walls were thick enough to the point where if she was lucky, maybe just maybe, her neighbors had minded their own business.

That still didn't mean Danse hadn't heard her, supposedly sleeping in the room down the hall where she had practically ran out of once she felt the first hot flare of an oncoming vomit session. The thought quickly came to be reality as she flushed down her mess with one hand and pushed herself away from the seat with the other, settling back onto her heels when she heard soft footsteps approach from the door.

Danse stood with all the glory a man could possibly have when woken up by the sound of his girlfriend getting sick in the next room, bare from the waist up, flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips because the drawstrings has been lost a long time ago, with his hair mussed and sleep tangled. He looked tired mostly, but alert in a way that Victoria knew was from all those sleepless watch nights he must have had before she came along in the Brotherhood.

She really wanted to give him a day to sleep in, half because she loved the little smile he would get when she kissed him awake, and the other because he honest to god desered and needed the rest. As far as things go, this was a pretty horrible way to wake someone up in the morning. Danse took a single look at her before he dropped down to his knees to be on her level and reached a hand around to rest at the nape of her neck, large and calloused and warm against her already burning skin.

She sniffled a little, still trying to get the feel and taste of pure _ass_ out of her mouth before she flicked her eyes up to meet his and offered a regretful smile. It didn't take the frown off his face.

“Are you all right?” His voice was raspy, still sounding like gravel from sleep and pitched low as if they weren't the only two people in the entire house. He seemed to train his eyes on any visible part of her body he could see from this angle, checking for outwards signs of injury, even though the last time either of them had seen combat was days ago.

“It’s at least over now.” Was what she could make out without saying something overly sarcastic and then just making him worried and annoyed at the same time. “Do you think maybe it was that cram we ate last night? You're not feeling sick, are you?”

“No. And I checked the expiration date on that box.” He let go from her neck to press the back of his hand against her forehead.

Victoria was actually hoping it was the cram. Shitty radiation food poisoning had to be better than a lot of other options now running through her head at a mile a minute. She let out a small groan and pulled herself to her feet, Danse automatically reaching for her hands as he rose with her.

She was struck with the sudden and strong desire that she _really_ wanted to kiss him and forget all about this horrible experience and spend the next few hours rolling around in their bed, but her dry mouth and stingy eyes doused that feeling like pouring water on a candle.

Danse probably wouldn't have gone for the idea anyway judging by the way he got that little crinkle in between his brows and the hard set frown of concern he was sporting and the grip he had on her hands as if she was about to fall over any second.

“We should take you to see a doctor. There's no telling if whatever you have could get worse.” Danse said with a certain kind of finality that only he could pull off and Victoria let out a loud sigh halfway through his sentence.

“It's fine. Really.” She said and moved to step around him. The kitchen wasn't far, and Danse was hot on her heels when she threw open the fridge to grab a bottle of water only to down the damn thing in seconds.

She swished it around in her mouth on the last gulp for good measure, because _fuck,_ it felt like something had died out in the wasteland and made her throat a permanent resident.

Danse stepped back into her line of vision, arms crossed with his back straight and looking down at her like she was either gonna agree or he was going to drag her down to the doc over his shoulder.

“Baby, come on.” Victoria was pulling hard ball here, and she knew it. In the best form of reality, the pet name would have ended the argument right then and there, and the rest of their day could go off without a hitch and they could share a shower together before they were forced to go out and participate in society.

But this was real life. And Danse just switched all his weight to his other foot and waited.

Danse: 1, Victoria 0, apparently.

“Look just -- ugh.” That got a little smile out of him, his lips turned up at the edges and his eyes softened. “Fine. Whatever you want. I'll go ring him up.” She stepped back and headed towards the bedroom only to stop halfway and turn around to point a finger.

“But the means you're _totally_ buying me a drink later, and you're totally staying with _our_ friends and I for the whole time that we meet up tonight.” It was kind of a cheap shot, and really just an excuse to get him more involved after the whole ‘turns out I was acting like a bigot only to find out I am one with the generally hated’ thing that seemed to plague his ability to have normal conversations with their friends, and also because she could use a drink right about now or just about any time of the day ever.

Victoria almost laughed at the sour expression that passed across his face before she really did giggle as she raised her pinky finger up and shook it at him. Danse smiled then, all soft lips and softer eyes, and twisted his much larger pinky around hers.

“It's a promise.” He said in the near laughing voice that always made her stomach tingle and her chest warm, and damn if it wasn't music to her ears.

It was best not to keep the day waiting. Any nausea she may have had before was gone now as they made quick work of getting dressed, which was admittedly fun and always sentimentally sweet because Danse would help with the straps on her leather chest plate and she would button up any of the shirts he actually managed to fit into.

It was probably somewhere past eight by now, judging by how bright it was outside when Victoria stole a peek out from under the shades on the window. Danse had a habit of waking up earlier than she usually did, but the whole illness thing had really fucked up their schedule and they were late for showing their faces.

Victoria pulled his hand to hers when they reached the door and gave Danse a somewhat cheeky smile. He squeezed her fingers and opened the door with his free arm, and they walked out of their little home the way she hoped they would _always_ walk out: as partners.


	2. Welcome to Hell

It was warm and bright out in the world today. Victoria rocked their hands back and forth, swaying their fingers in between their bodies like they were teenagers walking to school and in a way that wasn't entirely incorrect. She was just so _happy_ , previous upset stomach aside.

She kept peeking over at Danse, scared that if he caught her staring he would blush and try to break their fingers apart, and oh boy, that was the last thing she wanted. Subtlety wasn't one of her strong suits, she was always more of a hit first blaze first kinda girl, and it really did show when Danse did catch her.

And he _did_ flush, the smallest little bit, just enough for the tips of his cheekbones to go pink, before he seemed to collect himself and he smiled at her like she was the only person on the street and it wasn't like all of Sanctuary was watching them being domestic and sickeningly absorbed in each other.

“You know Freddie hates it when I show up without actual injuries and just take all the stimpacks.” Victoria said out of the blue on their way. Freddie Wilson had been a settler who knew a whole lot more than the average Joe off the street about medicine, and really, in times like these she guessed that's the only degree anyone out here would really need.

“He rants and throws his hands around and it's actually kind of endearing in his own asshole way.” She added quickly after.

“I can see it. It's the only form of aid Wilson has. You always clean him dry.” Danse says and Victoria nearly snorts into her hand at the sound of the ‘holier than thou’ voice Danse always uses when addressing others. It's always last names with him, even when they both know Danse and Freddie got along so well it's comical.

“Maybe if I didn't have to fight off _raiders_ every other day, Freddie could keep his stimpacks. Oh, alas.” Victoria says dramatically and drapes a hand over her face to really cement the whole picture. She can see Danse smiling through the cracks of her fingers, and it sets off something warm and bubbly in her chest.

“The only reason you're fighting raiders everyday is because you thrive on trouble, Vic.” Danse says with some more humor in his voice, and her heart just about damn near _melts_ at the nickname. He’s been doing this more often, calling her that, smiling, laughing, and it just hurts her in the best way because he almost never did that back when he was just Paladin and she was Knight. It's _good_.

“Hey, if I'm a troublemaker, what does that make you, Mister-always-one-step-behind?” She half jokes. Half. Because she knows exactly what that makes him and he knows it too. Danse gives her one of those small dimpled smiles as he side steps a kickball some kid left out on the sidewalk.

“Damn lucky.” He says without a hint of modesty and _oooh_ how the tables had turned on her. She nearly misses the steps up to the doctor because she's too stuck up thinking how bad it might be if she just pulled him into a tight corner and sunk her teeth into his lips.

They reach the shack currently serving as the makeshift hospital of Sanctuary. Well, alright, more like an urgent care center. Victoria had been in too many feral infested hospitals to really want to call anything by the name ever again.

The place was a clean as any building in the Commonwealth could be. It didn't look like any doctor’s office Victoria had ever been to, there weren't any chairs to wait and there wasn't a receptionist. What Sanctuary had instead was several rows of stretchers placed next to each other to form a long ass line, small little metal tables next to each one as if they were running a blood drive.

There was a cabinet that Freddie kept locked anytime he wasn't around, the mystical stash, so to speak, of chems and stimpacks that he cataloged and kept serious track of. Victoria could crack the lock in ten seconds if she wanted, and she was positive nearly everyone else around could too, but it made Freddie happy and a happy Freddie meant a speedy recovery.

Almost too reluctantly, Danse dropped her hand to retain some amount of professionalism. Victoria took the opportunity to flop down on one of the stretchers.

Freddie was still patching up some woman’s wrist, spreading gauze over bruised skin, and Victoria was instantly reminded that the building had that same horrid hospital smell that everything had before the bombs even dropped. Her stomach lurched pretty dangerously.

Freddie stopped for a second to look over. His face shifted somewhere between smelling something rotten all the way to careful neutrality.

“Oh, don't be so melodramatic. I'm actually here for a _checkup_.” Victoria put special and venomous emphasis on the last word. Freddie just let out a long suffering sigh and tapered off the last roll of his wrists with a bit more force than necessary.

“Sorry to disturb you, Wilson.” Danse started off, as if he was still standing in Prdwyen power armor and owed the world something, “It's just better to be safe.”

It was almost like Danse had just managed to wrangle in a wild animal, because Freddie’s metaphorical haunches dropped and any tension in the air dissipated.

“Medicinal concerns are always serious, Paladin.” Freddie put a hand on the woman’s back, and the settler took the cue to leave pretty well.

“ _Medicinal concerns_ , he says.” Victoria laughs into her palm. “It was one time!” Danse shot her a glare that screamed upcoming punishment. Freddie washed his hands in the sink in the corner before walking over, hands on his hips and fixing the glasses that were folded up in his front shirt pocket.

“Tell me what happened. And don't leave a word out, Victoria.” If he was anyone else, she might have just stepped on his foot for the whole ‘you're a fucking moron’ tone Freddie had. Danse was standing at her side, and his fingers twitched as if he wanted to place a hand on her shoulder but didn't know if it was appropriate. Him touching her would have always been appropriate, but no one ever asked her anything.

“I was just kinda sick this morning. No big deal, Fred. I guarantee that I'm spic and span.” Victoria raised herself up into sitting position, crossed legged on the stretcher.

“ _Kinda_ sick? There's no such thing as kinda sick out here.” He took the liberty of pressing a hand to her forehead.

“What she _meant to say_ is that she woke up feeling ill.” Danse offered for her, and really did lay a warm hand at the small of Victoria’s back. She huffed.

“Ill? I need symptoms, here. I ain't no Mama Murphy.” Freddie’s accent sprung up around his irritation, and it was as well because she missed those Boston syllables. She cut to the quick so it wouldn't seem like Danse was the only one with any responsibility.

“I threw up a couple of times, just jumped right out of bed and, whoop, there you go. Hello, vomit.” She leaned back into Danse’s hand, and his fingers seemed to curl into her skin. Freddie rubbed the bridge of his nose, and looked just about like he wanted to punch her threw a wall, before he his fingers suddenly stilled and his eyes got as wide.

“I'm gonna ask you a question. And I want you both to be so dead honest with me and if I found out you're lying I swear–”

“Hold up, Wilson. We wouldn't lie to our medical adviser.” Danse cut him off, because, of course asking Danse to lie was like asking Deacon to take of his sunglasses, and everyone knew that wouldn't happen in a million years. It seemed to placate Freddie enough to where he clasped his hands together in typical scolding parent fashion.

“You two been fucking, right?” Freddie asked. Victoria wasn't phased, but when she immediately looked over to Danse, he was so red in face she nearly felt bad for him, and _holy shit_ were his eyes wide. Danse pulled his hand away from Victoria as if she on fire.

“I don't see how—I mean how could that—uh. Why are you asking?” Danse looked like a deer in headlights, he was near _jittery_. Victoria placed a hand on his arm and in an attempt to get him to relax.

“He’s right you know. Isn't that just a tad bit personal?” Victoria was pulling the calm voice out now. Danse looked ready to bolt, he wouldn't, but he looked like he could.

“So you have.” Freddie just says and then pressed the heels of his palms into his sunken eyes.

“I wasn't aware that our relationship would get her sick. You're supposed to be giving us reliable information! Not digging into what we do in private.” Danse yelled, well, not really yelled, but said so sternly and righteously he may as well raised his voice.

Victoria was reeling. Freddie was a good doctor, better than she would have been, and Curie had even trained him some on the side so if he was even suggesting that she was— oh god. Oh god, _no_. Victoria reached her hands up to cradle around her face in shock. In her head a hundred different scenarios played out with fast and dizzying efficiency and she just couldn't breathe through the sudden pressure on her lungs.

“Victoria.” Freddie said as calmly as anyone could with Danse towering over them. “When was your last period?”

Danse opened his mouth, probably about to tear Freddie a new one, before they both watched sudden and devastating realization appear on his face. His mouth shut. There was a second where he just breathed in through his nose before he swallowed harshly. He turned his attention to stare at Victoria. Waitingly. Imploringly.

She laughed. Small and short, and self deprecating, and really terrified.

“That's not..guys. No.” She shook her head almost too vehemently. “Danse, you pulled out every time.” Freddie near groaned.

“You can still get _pregnant_ , Victoria. It's possible.” Freddie pulled a stool up to the stretcher and sat down. In for the long haul. Danse looked at her, his hands limp at his sides, and his face so blank Victoria was moderately worried if any of those words could have been a recall.

He locked eyes with her, pale faced and trembling, before he— _oh fuck._ Danse dropped down to his knees at the side of the stretcher and grabbed Victoria’s hands in his own. There was pause where she desperately tried to control her eyes from tearing.

“I...I don't know what to say.” Danse admitted slowly, his head hung a little low even though his thumbs drew small gentle circles into her hands. Victoria weakly repeated the motion once.

“This isn't what I was expecting.” She ended with a slightly pitiful laugh. Freddie for once was blissfully silent while he let them work through the mess.


	3. And Then There Were Feelings

They worked it out pretty quickly. At the very least, Victoria had resigned herself to a life of eternal torment. It wasn't because she didn't love Danse, because she _did_ , she loved him so _fucking_ much it was near impossible to ever look away, and it wasn't because she wouldn't adore the new little baby growing in her, because this was a kid, this was a new life, because this was a new _family_ , but it was because the Commonwealth was literally _shit_.

So, so much shit. The first time Victoria had encountered a huge maggot spitting bug she knew the brave new world was just trash acting like it was treasure. She didn't know if she wanted to bring a kid into this mess, she didn't know if doing that would be _fair_. What kind of life would they have? Spending their days within crumbling ruins and trying not to get their little baby fingers shot off? It wasn't right. How are were they supposed to do this—how was she supposed to keep them _safe_?

“Victoria...I—I need you to say something.” Danse words ripped her out of a close emotional breakdown. He wasn't kneeling anymore, and that was only because she had pulled him up to sit on the stretcher so she could cry into his shoulder. God, she was being horrible. Danse had a hard enough time going through emotions on his own and she just made him a _father_ and she was just taking all the attention for herself. Victoria pulled away and scrubbed a hand over her face.

“Yeah. I'm getting there. Just–” she cut in with a nervous and wrecked laugh, “give me a second here. Alright.” Danse had an arm snaked around her, and if she looked bad, Danse looked even worse. He had red eyes himself, though she would have sworn no tears actually fell, and he was almost shivering. He looked scared in a way Victoria had never seen him before.

“I need you to know that whatever you decide, whatever your choice is...I'm not going anywhere.” Danse whispers to her, and only to her, his hand digging into the flesh at her hip.

“Baby, you don't have to say a damn thing.” Victoria was about to cry again, if she ever even really did quit, and rushed to stop him before he said something he might regret later. She cupped her hand around his neck, fingers splayed up to where they just brushed his jaw. Danse smiled at her, softly, eyes downcast and sympathetic, and so _full_ of open adoration her tears spilled.

“I know I don't. But I want to.” He drew in a shaky breath. Victoria went to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks.

“When we decided to share our life together, when I said that I loved you, I _meant_ it. I meant every single word. If you think that...that us having a child is going to scare me away than you've never been more wrong. I'm not leaving. There is no place for me out there that isn't _right_ here at your side.” He took another breath. She moved her hand  to where his collarbone met his chest and curled her fingers.

“I'm not—I _know_ I'm not good with this. I can't guarantee that things will be easy or that I'll be the best. But I want to..I want to try.” He said slowly, deliberately, as if he was going to scare her off and never find her again.

“You're too good to me, Danse.” Victoria managed weakly through her tears because how the hell could she follow up that. She pressed her forehead against his, and for one glorious moment, they just _breathed_. His arms tightened. Her eyes closed. Danse brushed their lips together, barely touching, a ghost of warmth between them. He was right, because of _course_ he was right. This new start, this _child_ , was as much of his as it was of hers. It seemed petty, in a way that prickled in the back of her head, that she assumed Danse stayed out of some misguided sense of responsibility. That he thought she would only _make_ him stay because of responsibility.

Danse knew Victoria better than she knew herself, apparently.

He wasn’t going to stay because of his ethics. He wasn't going to stay because he had to. He was going to stay because he loved her. Because he actually give a damn about her, about _them_ , a traitorous part of her mind added. It was almost too much to handle. When they parted, she had gained control over her tear ducts and he had stopped shaking. She pressed one last kiss to the height of his cheekbone.

Freddie appeared from around the bend of one of the huge shelves, acting like he hadn't just been standing in cover while they cried into each other's arms, and gently handed her a vial full of an amber liquid.

“It's vitamins. Should help keep you healthy while you're dealing with everything else. This isn't your first rodeo, I know, but I wanted to give you some advice anyway.” The wrinkles under his eyes deepened with the concern etched into his face. Victoria held the glass with both her hands.

“Drink that once a week. It’ll taste like straight piss, but it'll be good for the little bun. I’d recommend regular checkups, but there's not much I can see going on in there without the right equipment. Just be sure to tell me _everything_. You're instincts have been spot on before. You feel like something is wrong, you find me. Day or night.” Freddie cleared his throat.

“What kind of equipment would you need? If there's one thing I've learned, it's that anything can be found. I could look for the right tech.” Danse offered, not unkindly.

“Some of the old hospitals might have the right gadgets. Monitors, gel, a goddamn stethoscope, even. I gave all the pictures and diagrams to Sturges to look out for when I first took this gig. If you were gonna look, I’d start there, Paladin.” Freddie tugged at the edges of his coat like he was trying to straighten himself out.

“That's my next stop then.” Danse slid from the bed, rubbed his eyes, and held his hand out to Victoria. She couldn't help herself, all the nervousness in her body was ticking up, so she let out a laugh.

“Right back to work, I guess. Got it.” She said with humor and placed her hand in his. Her legs felt weak. Danse supported most of her weight for a second when she put both feet on the ground, but if there was anything Victoria was good at, it was a quick recovery. She stabilized herself instantly. Danse didn't drop her hand.

They made their way to the door awkwardly. _Really_ fucking awkwardly. Victoria wasn't sure she could look Danse in the eyes again and not start crying, and she was almost just as positive the same was for him. Not only was she terribly conscious of that fact that Freddie had listened to her have the worst crying session since the fucking _Vault_ , which in itself would have probably tore her off track for days, but all three of them looked absolutely wrecked.

There was no mistake that Danse had been crying now. His eyes were red and puffy and his skin was pale save for the dust of pink that tinged along his cheeks. His shirt was no better. Victoria had wrinkled it when she grabbed him while they hugged, and there was a huge wet spot that had the unmistakable design of two eyes splotched into the fabric.

Victoria was less concerned about herself, because god knew she could dodge a question for _miles_ if anyone actually asked her why she was sniffling or why she looked like she stepped out of a war zone. It was something of a specialty. Danse, however much he wouldn't admit it, was a _horrible_ liar.

Back in the day, she had known instantly when Danse told her to leave him in the middle of that nuclear holding plant by himself that everything coming out of his mouth was complete bullshit. Danse could make a half baked story on the go, sure, but there was no delivery. He’d get stuck, or forget the ploy, and he’d phrase his voice all wrong and it was so painfully obvious she was worried about what he might spew out when they stepped from this threshold.

But they did, and she kept silent.

The sunlight hit Victoria’s irritated eyes with the force of what might as well been a sledgehammer. She nearly brought an arm up to shield it away before she remembered they were supposed to be acting like none the worse. Danse squeezed her hand, as if saying, “ _me too_.”

“I'm gonna break off when we reach Preston. It’s better to keep this between us for now, right? You can go rummage through the files in the mechanical shed.” She bumped their shoulders together in a small show of comfort. Danse let out a chuckle that was more air than laugh.

“I can meet up with you later with whatever I manage to find. The sooner the better.” He gave a little push back. She didn't fight the smile that curled her lips.

Preston wasn't far. He was easy to pick out with the cowboy hat and the musket always in his hands, patrolling around Sanctuary as it's best and most loyal defender. Victoria has equated him to a strong little puppy several times in her head. He was as wholesome and good as anyone could ever be or become, and sometimes the charity he exhibited frightened her into thinking that maybe angels did exist.

Danse ducked down to press a kiss into her hair as she rocked up onto the tips of her toes to plant one on his cheek before splitting their hands apart. He seemed less than pleased to let go but he stayed quiet about it. Preston gave her a little wave. Victoria ran a hand through her hair and walked over in a strut that had to just scream normalcy.

  
Fake it till you make it, she guessed.


End file.
